Unofficial Portkey Archive

Joseph Carter stepped off the airplane and breathed in the damp air.

He was supposed to meet his England contact in just under twenty-three minutes. There had been some complications securing an International Portkey after the World Trade Center bombings, so he had to catch a last minute Muggle flight to England. Still, there was time to spare and he could finally relax. This promotion into American Security Service was a big jump from his entry level job. More importantly, he had been assigned to the long rumored and heavily hushed Theseus Project.

The security clearances and tests he had to pass were brutal and lasted more than six months. He was tested in everything from expert level Occlumency to advanced field training. While his official statement was to observe and report, there was a great deal of requirements he had to fulfill in order to obtain this position. Furthermore, he had been paid a visit by the mythical wizards of Area 51 as well. Once he had been briefed on the Theseus Project, he realized why all of these tests were needed.

Instead of passing through customs like the rest of the Muggles, Joseph purposefully walked towards the men's bathroom. Inside, he entered the last stall and closed the door behind him. Making sure that no one else was in the bathroom, he placed his feet into the toilet and yanked the lever. An odd whirling sensation overtook him as he quickly found himself deposited into an alley. Recalling the instructions from memory, Joseph opened the first door on the left and stepped onto the marble floor.

"Good evening, Mr. Carter. How was your flight?" asked the young, pleasant lady at the counter.

"Could have been shorter." He immediately mimicked her West Midlands accent, playing it off perfectly.

"You'll find the painting of your choosing to be the third one on the right. Enjoy the exhibit," she smiled at him one more time as she handed Joseph a ticket.

Stepping through the curtains behind the receptionist's desk, Joseph found himself in a long, dimly lit hallway with paintings on either side. There were benches for observation and Joseph calmly walked to the third painting on the right, approaching the gentlemen that was already standing in front of it.

The man in front of the painting, was tall, easily clearing six feet. His shoulders were wide and his hips thick, the build of a man who could probably be a fighter. He was dressed not in a robe, but in plain Muggle clothing. Perfectly combed over hair accompanied a smooth jaw and to an objective eye, he was a pleasant man to look upon.

"Hell of a painting, isn't it?" The man said in a not so obvious American accent. To Joseph, who had quite the ear for accents, there was a hint of Appalachia in his cadence.

The painting in question was a hue of green and brown overshadowed by the gray shades of a Cumolonimbus cloud. The green plain ramped upwards, giving the illusion that the solitary tree focused in the forefront was on a higher level. The beauty of the painting was the transition of colors from the tree towards the heavy clouds above and the overall effect of the slightly tilted layer was that the lightning looked to be originating from the tree instead of the clouds.

"I don't know much about paintings, sir," said Joseph.

"I don't know shit about anything, son," the man confessed.

The tall man turned around, addressing Joseph with a curt nod an extended hand. Joseph gladly shook his hand, knowing that this man was his contact.

"Joseph Carter, sir."

The tall man shook his hand, looking him up and down in appraisal.

"You're younger than I thought you'd be," said the man.

"I'm well qualified, sir, if that's what you're wondering."

"Qualified." The man snorted. "I don't think anyone is qualified for this nonsense."

Not knowing how to respond, Joseph kept quiet. The man shook his head at something, his lips twisting into a frown.

"I'm John White. You'll be reporting to me for however long you stay. As you can tell, I don't give a shit about a lot of things, but it's in your best interest to never listen to me."

"Why is that, sir?"

"Because everyone in your position has died so far, so I assume I'm not doing a good job."

Joseph knew this from his briefing, but opted for silence again. There had been six operatives since the beginning of the Theseus Project and every agent had their operation prematurely terminated via undisclosed deaths. Perhaps that was why they didn't give the briefing of the operation until after Joseph accepted the position.

"I suppose you're caught up on Project Theseus then?"

"Yes I am, sir."

John White let out a long sigh, looking resignedly ahead. "Let's get going then."

Before White took a step, Joseph had to ask, "Is that your real name?"

"Nope," White answered. Then, he grinned. "My name used to be John Black or John Brown or John Green. I forget after a while. You don't survive as long as I do by keeping your own name."

Pivoting his foot, John braced his hand against the exquisite, gold frame of the painting. He raised his leg to clear the lower barrier of the frame and walked into the painting, his body molding into the canvas. John turned around, his picturesque appearance adopting the slightly oily spread of the painting.

"Mind your head. It feels a bit weird the first time you do it," John said with a wry smile.

Cocking his head, Joseph placed his hand against the ornate frame, feeling the thick material. He experimentally laid his palm against the canvas and found his hand disappearing into the painting. Realizing that John wasn't waiting around for him, Joseph took the plunge and stepped inside the painting, shivering as he felt a harsh grating against his skin. The sensation was not unlike Apparition, but there was a more intense drawing sensation upon his whole body. Wobbling, Joseph took a moment to regain his bearings.

Inside the painting, everything still had the same oily outline. The tree scaled to size as he took a step towards it, but the sketch of the lightning remained the same, the flash caught in that visible millisecond. As he turned his head, Joseph found that the painting expanded to more than just what was in the frame. John was walking to his right, not bothering to slow down for him. Stretching his legs, Joseph quickened his pace to catch up with the older man.

The grass didn't crunch like it usually did and instead of the soft push of the earth, his feet walked over a solid, reinforced surface. Looking down at his hands, Joseph realized that his whole body was drawn in the form of the same oils used for the painting. Looking up, he spotted a doorway in the distance. It wasn't attached to anything and it didn't look like it had any support, yet John White nee Black was walking towards it with a purpose.

As Joseph caught up to John, the latter turned around with a patient expression.

"You feeling okay?" John asked.

"The visuals are a bit surprising, but my body feels fine," Joseph answered.

"Good. Good. There's a hundred and twenty-seven second wait period until you become this painting."

"And what time are we on now?" Joseph asked with a raised eyebrow.

John shrugged. "Hell, I don't know. Over sixty, I think? Just making sure you know if I can't make a meeting for some reason. The scene ain't half bad, but I wouldn't want to be in here forever."

"I'm guessing we have to go through that door then."

John smiled, his handsome face brightening for a moment. "Qualified, you say."

Stepping forward, John White opened the door, his hand twisting the knob as he pulled himself out of the way. As the door opened, Joseph found himself looking into a dark void. The blackness filled the entire door frame, a sharp contrast to the green and brown hues of the painting. Peering closer, Joseph found no source of light or anything else that could possibly reveal what was on the other side of the door.

"Shall we?" John asked with a half bow, extending his hand towards the black void.

As much as he enjoyed the exquisite painting, Joseph preferred the banalities of the real world.

* * * * * *

The darkness enveloped him as soon as he stepped through the doorway.

Joseph stayed calm, trusting his contact to not lead him into something dangerous. There were obvious security measures being taken in order to attend this meeting and judging by the importance of the Theseus Project, they were not taking it lightly.

"He's clear," said a low, gruff voice.

His vision slowly came to, the darkness fading away like a light bulb turning on. Joseph remained still, waiting until his vision returned. He slowly absorbed his surroundings, noting the white walls of the room and the solitary door towards the far end. In front of it were two men.

The man on the left was an oddball to a particular degree. He was wearing multiple layers even though it was summer, a dilapidated leather jacket covering most of his body. His left leg was a hulking, wooden monstrosity with toes that were carved into claws. His face bore multiple scars, most faded over time. A chunk of his nose was missing, but nothing compared to the brilliant, blue eye held by a band that wrapped around his head. It was whizzing around, twirling multiple revolutions per second.

The man on the right was far more nondescript. He had grey hair, thin and drawn to a point like a hawk. Though he looked to be shorter than the oddball on the left, Joseph could see that the man was hunched over. His arms were crossed, but his body could never be construed as large. His skin was pale as a ghost, almost to the point of unhealthiness. Yet, his grey eyes were alive with intent and desire, a contrast to his seemingly decaying body.

"Joseph Carter?" The man on the right spoke up, his voice soft but firm.

"He's with me."

John White stepped out from behind Joseph, his feet resuming the brisk pace.

"Alastar. Wendell." John addressed both of them with a curt nod and neither of them made an attempt to stop the American from walking through the door.

Sensing that there were no other pleasantries to be had, Joseph quickly followed John, smiling politely at both of the men. Wendell, the man on the right, smiled back at him, but Alastor, the man on the left, simply scowled. Even as Joseph walked through the door, he had the distinct feeling that the whirling, blue eye was following him.

"You're probably too young to know, but the psycho on the left is Alastor Moody," John said.

Taking Joseph's silence as a cue that he was right, John continued, "He was one of the top Aurors in the 60's and the 70's. Lost that eye and the leg to some dark wizard before Voldemort's War and they wouldn't let him continue, but he's about ten times more useful than any of the Aurors they have now."

"What's his position? Bodyguard?"

"Teacher." John smiled again but every smile was more forced.

"Teacher? As in Hogwarts? I noticed in the Theseus files that I didn't have any dossiers on the Hogwarts teachers."

"One of many things that the main psycho wouldn't let us have. I can understand secrecy and privacy as much as the next man in this business, but it hampers our ability to carry out our mission if we don't have the right information in our hands."

"Who is the main psycho?" Joseph asked as they continued down the unmarked hallway.

"That would be Headmaster Severus Snape. Given your qualifications, I'm sure you know who he is."

Indeed, Joseph had read the entire file on the lead of the Theseus Project. Severus Snape was an excellent student at Hogwarts with advanced marks in Potions. There was nothing overwhelmingly remarkable about his early life. He was the son of a Pureblood and a Muggle and there were notes from various sources that indicated possible neglect on the parents' part, but there was nothing substantial. Still, his Hogwarts record was unblemished as were his Ministry files.

According to second hand sources in the files, it was extraordinary when the deceased Albus Dumbledore highlighted his wish to have the then twenty-two year old Severus Snape to succeed him as headmaster. Recommendations from previous headmasters or even deceased headmasters were nothing new, but this particular one rankled more than a few feathers in the Board of Governors. It would have been a tough task for anyone to succeed the late Albus Dumbledore, but for it to possibly be someone just years removed from Hogwarts was nothing short of lunacy.

It was at this point that the Theseus Project started in earnest. It was also in this part of the file that had several redacted passages and pages that were censored by magic far out of Joseph's abilities. Several passages and documents were blackened out, but he surmised that there were unknown forces within the England Ministry that enforced this pilot project. Names, in particular, were scarce, but it was obvious that Theseus originated from the deeply disturbed minds of the Department of Mysteries. The parent of Area 51, the Department of Mysteries made several inquiries and requests to have Severus Snape head the Theseus Project.

From that point on, the files became nigh unreadable. Every other line was redacted and censored, making it difficult at best to have a grasp of the situation. There were only key points that were impossible to understand without context. Phrases such as premature power cap, declining rate of growth, and high correlation with emotional transference were surrounded by blacked out text that Joseph could not bewitch.

"When did the inquiries about the Theseus Project start?" Joseph asked as he turned a corner in this seemingly endless hallway.

"Given the potential ramifications of the program, the necessary governments were alerted as soon as the project was green lit. The sensitive and, frankly, barbaric nature led to a mutual pact of complicity for the first five years of the project. Afterwards, a yearly review is required for the countries that are in the know," John answered with a lengthy response.

"Permission to speak off the record, sir?"

"This whole thing is off the record." John rolled his eyes.

Joseph bit the inside of his cheek to hold back a smarmy response. "It's about the file highlighting the just cause for the project. I find the justifications a bit...murky."

John snorted as he came to a stop in front of a pair of doors adjacent to each other. "You're not the only one. Why else do you think we're here?"

John opened the door on the left, quickly stepping inside. Joseph followed the older man and his eyes adjusted one last time as the change from the stark, white walls of the hallway contrasted with the muted darkness of this last room. Once his pupils adjusted, Joseph found an enclosed amphitheatre that held a singular person on the staging floor. He was seated behind a desk and his head was buried in a journal, but there was no mistake as to who this focal figure was.

Severus Snape.

"This way," John waved Joseph over with a quieter voice.

There was a soft hush of sound, like water slowly splashing against a rock. There were tables on each step of the amphitheatre, spread out in a semi circle that surrounded Snape. There were only a few people seated at each table, less than three usually, and no one paid attention to them as they walked inside.

"What is this place?" Joseph whispered to John.

Navigating around two men speaking French, John whispered back, "We're deep within the Department of Mysteries. It's where they hold these meetings. I can't really tell you where exactly this place is as you saw how convoluted it was to get here in the first place."

"They're certainly going through great lengths to keep this secret. How does the Minister feel about this?"

John actually laughed. "They didn't put that in your files? The Minister knows nothing about this. Merlin forbid he actually did. That bumbling oaf would collapse on the spot. This is strictly need to know and it's a very tight circle."

How tight the circle was seemed to be up to interpretation. Just on a quick head count, Joseph marked no less than fifty people in this strange amphitheatre. Furthermore, a group of wizards not associated with a table were seated towards the upper tier of the grandstand, observing from the shadows.

"Who are they?" Joseph nudged his head towards the rafters.

John's glance flickered towards the mystery men and he was uncharacteristically sober in his response. "Unspeakables. Best to leave them alone."

John arrived at what must have been their table as he took one of two seats behind it. There were no markings representing their country or anything else that could have significantly identified them. They were just two more faces in a very eclectic crowd. To his right were a pair of Spaniard women discussing something in rapid Spanish with low tones. A warlock and a beast of a man, probably a half-giant, were watching Snape mutely. Down the lines and stands, everyone spoke in hush tones or remained silent.

Finally, three people emerged from the door where Joseph and John had entered the large staging area. The first was a woman with brilliant, white hair. It was the color of snow, shining brightly under the dim light of the amphitheatre. Her stride was purposeful, precise, and direct. The second was a tall man with hair not unlike Snape. It was long, smooth, and black and he also held the air of someone who was not to be trifled with. The third was a short, rounder fellow with a sour disposition like he had eaten a particularly bad batch of Every Flavor Beans.

"Main panel. They lead the initial questionnaire, then afterwards we follow with a Q&A session," John explained.

"Do you know who they are?" Joseph asked.

"Their names are kept to themselves. As a general rule, don't tell your name to anyone. The more people you know, the faster information disseminates. You were chosen for this role for your assumed discretion. I won't hesitate to have you taken care of," John warned.

"What does taken care of imply?"

"Use your imagination."

* * * * * * *

"Before we begin with the questions, Mr. Snape, there have been some general inquiries on the status of your search for Voldemort. According to your review last year, in your opinion, there was a substantial reason to believe that his return was imminent. Unfortunately, there has been little evidence to correlate any sort of return. Do you have any updates at this time?"

The white haired women spoke fluidly, not a stutter or pause in her phrasing. The perfect relay of her thoughts echoed loudly in the chamber and the onus of the spotlight was decidedly on Snape. Her thick Scouse accent gave away her origins. Joseph watched from behind his table, seven rows up, and made sure to pay attention to Snape's body language. Even as a young adult, Joseph had a talent for reading people. The recruiters highlighted it as a strength of his and he used that strength to every advantage. Yet, he could not glean anything off Snape. His jaw was set in a firm line, but his hands were crossed on top of each other on top of his table, and there were no other overt signs of nervousness.

"I am confident that his return is imminent if he has not already returned. As we've detailed in several meetings before, Voldemort has remained in a state of living in accompaniment of his Horcruxes. While my colleagues and I have successfully destroyed all but one Horcrux, multiple indicators have led us to believe that Voldemort has already returned."

There was a hushed murmur, a tremor barely heard around the amphitheatre, but audible nonetheless. Even any mention of the word, Voldemort, caused several wizards and creatures to shift uncomfortably in their seats.

"He said the same thing last meeting," John whispered as he leaned over to give running commentary. "I think he's right in this. Eastern Europe doesn't start growing abuzz with the phrase, The Dark Lord, without any truth in it."

"What have your colleagues found that has led you to believe this?" The short, fat one of the three pressed Snape on the topic.

"Increased activity of known dark sectors in Eastern Europe. Former and known Death Eaters suddenly contacting each other with increasing frequency. Finally, a sighting of Peter Pettigrew in Bulgaria."

At the mention of Pettigrew, Joseph caught movement out of the corner of his eye. At the lowest rung of the stone stands, there sat a solitary figure with no table to shield him from the proceedings and no one else surrounding him. He was dressed in plain, black robes, but the tattoos were evident in the remaining skin that he bared. His hair was cropped short, tangled and swept to the side, and his dark eyes glittered coldly even in the sparse light. Joseph thought he was oddly familiar, but he couldn't quite place him.

"Do you know who that is?" Joseph leaned over to ask John.

"He looks a bit different now, but that's Sirius Black."

Joseph snapped his fingers in annoyance, disappointed in himself for not being able to figure out who it was. Black was the Potter's purported Secret-Keeper, but that fact had been proven false by Snape. He was quietly released from Azkaban without the public knowing, but there were no other files on him.

"Is he one of Snape's colleagues?" Joseph asked as one of the people in the main panel asked another question.

"One of several, though I heard there's no love lost between them."

Joseph kept his eyes on Sirius Black, watching the falsely accused man while Snape answered another question. Black was in a relaxed posture, his back snugly fit against the ledge where the stone rose to support another stand. One leg was crossed on top of the other and he occasionally tossed his wand in the air to head height before catching it and bouncing his wand against his lap. All in all, Sirius Black looked bored by the proceedings.

"We have precautions in place but for obvious reasons, we would like to know when you have any updated information in regards to Voldemort's movements. On the same track, what is our progress with Project Theseus?" It seemed like the old woman with the white hair was the one leading the questioning panel.

"We believe that we are two years from maximizing the ability of our students. As I've demonstrated in previous hearings, their maximum power potential is going to peak at the height of their adolescence. Based on previous tests of mature wizards and witches, there is a significant cap of magical ability after this peak. We feel that we are well on schedule with the progression of our assets." Snape responded with an air of rehearsal.

The tall man who was visually similar to Snape cleared his throat. "I know we went over this last meeting, Snape, but there have been more disturbing reports that you have expanded, for the lack of a better word, your influence upon the student's lives."

"I'm not sure I understand what you're saying."

"A pair of Muggles were killed this past winter. They were the parents of one of your students and there was a significant magical trace on their automotive vehicle."

"We have investigated that matter as well. We believe it was the work of a rogue smatter of Death Eaters that had identified that particular student as gifted. We are treating it as such and keeping that student under intense scrutiny."

Snape answered calmly, like he was reading from a book. Joseph detected not a smidgen of guilt within the headmaster. Furthermore, there was not a single trace of misplaced emotion. His words were affected perfectly, reflecting concern and practicality perfectly. Joseph had encountered expert Occlumens before that could lie with such ease.

"What do you think?" John asked. "Is he lying?"

"I can't say he's lying, but I can't say he's telling the truth. He's perfect. Unreadable," Joseph answered with a tinge of admiration.

"But if you were pressed for an answer, what would you say?"

"Honestly, I can't say. I'm very good at reading people but that requires them having emotions. Snaps is...devoid of that."

"I thought you were recruited for your expert ability to read people."

"Expert Legilimency, top of my class in Subversive Magic, and I hold the top score in Linguistics for the nation. I'm good, not perfect."

"You're going to have to be better than good, kid." John leaned back, indicating this particular conversation was over.

Joseph tightened his lips and renewed his attentions on Snape.

The tall man didn't seem content to just let the subject drop. "Mr. Snape, you must understand that this project has received very little oversight up until this time and given that, we have numerous questions that, in my honest opinion, you have successfully evaded so far."

"I have answered the full truth in every aspect so far. Is there something not to your satisfaction?"

"There are several things that have not been adequately answered. First and foremost would be your, frankly, draconian oversight at Hogwarts. You have refused to give adequate progress reports not only on students but on all hires and on anything that has been achieved or taught at the school."

Snape cocked his head, turning both of his hands upwards and exposing his palms. It was a classic plea for openness.

"In accordance to the original project specifications, I am allowed as much discretion as needed in order to -"

The tall man interrupted him. "We all know what the original specifications are. What we are trying to accomplish here is to facilitate a more open channel of information between your school and certain departments of the Ministry. How are we supposed to prepare for the return of Voldemort if we don't know the exact capabilities of the Hogwarts students?"

"The original specification also outline the steps the Ministry needs to take in order to prepare for the assumed return of -"

The tall man interrupted him again with an impatient wave of his hand. In contrast, Snape was the perfect example of stoicness, a calm ship amidst waves trying to crush him.

"We all know what the original specifications are -"

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because we're steering our broomsticks blindfolded here!" The tall man threw both of his hands in the air, gesturing incredulously. "You are telling us that Voldemort, the second greatest wizard of our generation or the first depending on who you speak to, is returning and our main defense against him is unknown to almost every facet of the Ministry except for the ones who own this very chamber that we've been gracefully invited to convene in."

The resounding silence was more powerful than anything the tall man could have said. Not a single soul spoke in the amphitheatre. Joseph turned to John, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Snape spoke again, breaking the reverie. "While I understand your concerns, you will find that the Department of Mysteries has more than enough information to carry out the necessary plans should the worst occur. Furthermore, every single piece of information transmitted from the school towards the Ministry is another opportunity for those who wish to disrupt this project. After all, this project does have its origins in the Ministry's failings during the First War."

The tall man slumped back into his seat, visibly defeated. When neither the old woman with the white hair nor the short, fat man said anything in support of him, Joseph knew that the tall man would get no more support this day in procuring more information about Project Theseus.

"For what it's worth, he's telling the truth," Joseph whispered.

John nodded in confirmation. "Very good."

The old woman with the white hair cleared her throat, trying to break up the awkward silence. "Since that subject is closed, let us move onto our next line of questioning. Mr. Snape, could you enlighten us on certain rumors we are hearing of the Potter boy..."

* * * * * *

The hearing continued in the same vein. Snape deftly avoided answering any serious questions but never broke the appearance that he was doing anything but telling the truth. It was a very thin tightrope to balance for normal people, but Snape was no normal person in Joseph's opinion. He had never seen someone so at ease despite the ominous setting and the numerous, and there were numerous, questions thrown at him. What made it all the more impressive was that Joseph left the meeting knowing no more than he entered.

"What do you think?" John asked, reflecting Joseph's thoughts.

"Wildly uninformative," Joseph shortly answered.

"Then you understand my boredom of these hearings. As you saw, Snape is as good as they come. Those folks won't be learning anything about Theseus until that damn Voldemort actually comes back. The Department of Mysteries holds all the keys and no one's happy about that, but what are they going to do? Politicians have no real power when there's no one to order around."

"A power struggle in the Ministry?"

John shook his head as they watched the others leave the amphitheatre. "Not a power struggle. The Unspeakables aren't concerned about power. They have far bigger things to worry about than political struggles. Still, that doesn't stop the Wizengamot from fretting."

"Then why get involved at all? Aren't they notorious for being hands off?" Joseph asked as he watched Sirius Black approach the podium and converse with Snape.

"Usually. Yet, this Dark Lord seems to have their attention. I suppose that's what happens when you kill Albus Dumbledore."

"Is he really dead?" Joseph continued his line of questioning as they stood up to leave.

"Dead as can be. Why else would we be here?"

Joseph made for the back exit where everyone else was heading, but John started walking down the stone steps instead. Confused, Joseph made a quick turn and followed the older man. As they reached pit of the amphitheatre, Joseph realized that they were headed straight for Snape, one of the main architects of the Theseus Project. He wanted to ask John what they were doing, but he didn't want to do so in fear of looking foolish in front of the intimidating headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Mr. White, good of you to come," Snape said as he collected his folders.

"Always a pleasure to attend these meetings, Snape. This is our new recruit."

Snape appraised him with a glance, but Joseph caught the passive Legilimency floating over him like a soft caress. Joseph immediately thought of the wooden walls of his home, the wood morphing under the gloss. It was his trigger to sink into his Occlumency shields as he repelled a weak attempt by Snape.

Arching a single eyebrow without moving any other part of his face, Snape greeted him with a slight nod of his head. "Hello, Mr. Carter."

"Mr. Snape." Joseph nodded back in kind.

The headmaster of Hogwarts stepped off the slightly raised dais and walked towards the unlit part of the amphitheatre. Curiously, Sirius Black was following them but at a sizable distance. Joseph felt unnerved by the man's presence given that he was to his flank.

"I trust you found it informative," Snape said to John.

"As it always is."

Feeling the need to interject, Joseph asked, "What is the point of it anyways? If you don't mind, Mr. Snape, it all seems like a dog and pony show."

Snape looked at Joseph with his dark, bottomless eyes. "All of the people you saw are various members of other country's secret organizations. It is upon their discretion to disclose whatever information they glean to their governments, but one simply can not militarize a school without questions being asked...even if our own Minister knows nothing of the true intentions of our project."

"So you're stringing them along?" Joseph continued.

"This one is clever," Snape commented to John.

John looked back at Joseph with a smile. "Qualified, they say."

Distracted by the conversation, Joseph didn't notice that they were already in a different setting. Spinning on his foot, he realized the amphitheatre was gone and behind him was a bare stone wall. It was a shockingly seamless transition, one that did not have the strange drawing sensation of stepping into the oil canvas. The three, no four, of them were within a strange room that had sloped walls leading to a point in the ceiling. Said walls were tan, smooth and mirror-like in appearance.

"Is this your man?" Snape asked with a bare hint of Manchester in his voice.

"He's promising," John answered.

Joseph recalled the timber walls of his childhood home, falling back on peaceful waves of Occlumency in order to temper his impatience. While he accepted that he was in the business of subterfuge, Joseph didn't particularly enjoy talking in code, or rather, when people talked in code that he couldn't understand. Out of the corner of his eye, Joseph spotted Sirius Black leaning against a wall, his wand still held firmly in his hand. Black had the look of a jackal, his posture slack and relaxed against a wall but the hard line of his jaw and the dark, coal eyes contrasting against his seemingly easy going stance.

Snape walked around him, his formidable nose raised in the air and his empty, brown eyes inspecting him.

"Mr. White informs me that you are a classified Expert in Legilimency and Occlumency as well as having a unique affinity towards Linguistics," Snape drawled.

Joseph altered his jaw line, sticking it out while letting his tongue lay low. He lifted his chin to open up his passage way as he perfectly mimicked Snape.

"I have Expert status on Legilimency and Advanced status on Occlumency. I graded top of my class in Subversive magic and hold the highest scores in the United States for Linguistics," Joseph drawled, making sure to stretch out some syllables and elongating any words that ended with an "s." The result was an almost perfect match of Snape's inflection, the only difference being a slight alteration in the tone that would have only been heard by an equally accomplished Linguist.

Sirius Black barked in laughter, his deep voice filling the strangely tan and pyramidic room. He tapped his wand against his bicep, his unfathomably dark eyes merrily dancing.

"He's good. I like this one," Black said.

"Impressive annotation," Snape noted, nodding to himself as he continued to circle Joseph like a shark.

Joseph glanced at John, who seemed far too amused for such a strange situation. "What's going on, John?" Joseph asked.

John White exhaled, running a hand through his greying hair. "Your briefing wasn't entirely informative of the situation. There have been complications tracking Voldemort. The headmaster here has enlisted our help for a particular goal."

"I assume one that will involve me," Joseph added.

Snape cleared his throat, sniffing noisily through his nose. "You have a particular set of skills that are quite useful for this goal. You will need some more training, particularly in Occlumency and cultural submergence, but your skills are uniquely fitted for this purpose."

"What particular skill?"

This time, it was Sirius Black who spoke, finally talking in full. "Voldemort has gone dark. This is quite unlike him. He is showy. He is a braggart. He likes to make himself known. Yet, for the past six months, we have heard nary a word from our ears on the ground."

"In the meeting, you said you had near confirmation that he had returned," Joseph said.

"We do," Sirius confirmed. "Yet, that information's outdated. We know he's been back since the start of winter. We assumed that there would have been more than murmurs, but it seems he has retracted and the only reason he would go into hiding is if he were -"

"-preparing something," Joseph finished.

"See?" Sirius said to Snape, "He is good. Anyway, given the strangely homogenous nature of his followers, it is hard for us to have a contact that Voldemort doesn't know by some degree of separation. Since a majority of his followers are alumni of Hogwarts, it is not easy for us to introduce someone within their circle of acquaintances without word quickly flying up the chain. Conversely, any foreign inquiries into the Death Eaters would also likely be met with suspicion. Therefore, we require a unique subject that is simultaneously neither a Hogwarts alumni nor sounds like a foreigner. Of course, above all, they must be well trained in secrecy and deception."

Joseph didn't need to be an academic to figure out what they were asking.

"You want me to spy on the Death Eaters and Voldemort."

John gave him a sad smile. "You are qualified."

Snape stopped pacing around him and added, "We will take some time to brush up your Occlumency as well as submerge you within your cover identity. We must warn you that this is a deep cover. Communication will be scarce and there is no time table."

Joseph took a few seconds to look at each of them in turn. Snape was undecipherable as always, his mask a veneer of calmness. John had a consigned acceptance about him, a realization of the road that Joseph would have to take. Sirius was...excited? Joseph found him difficult to read for elated would have been one of the last emotions prudent for the situation.

"This will help the Theseus Project? It will help....the Potter boy?"

"Unimaginably so," Snape answered.

It wasn't really a decision he had to wrestle his conscious with. Joseph instinctively knew what he wanted to do as soon as Sirius Black had sketched the outline of the circumstances. The only reason there was a slight delay in his response was to make sure he didn't look overeager.

"Give me a name and a story and I'll find you Voldemort."

***

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